Hello. Right now I’m sipping on a Starbucks Tall Salted Caramel Frappacino while contemplating that I might die in a few hours.
I don’t usually contemplate my death. I’m not a weirdo. But the reason I chose now to do it is because I’m about to board a plane to California. I actually really like planes. To me, airports are pretty cool, and being on planes are exciting. I mean, I can be watching X-Files while 30,000 meters of the ground. You can’t regularly do that. But I know that you can also die while up 30,000 meters of the ground. I’ve seen enough news stories about airplanes crashes to keep me cautious. Cautious enough where I’m scared the whole plane ride, but cautious enough where I’m like, "I might die today."
I’m well aware that the pilots are trained professionals. They have gone to flight school and everything, and that they know perfectly well what they are doing. But still. What if something malfunctions? What if a bird gets sucked into the engine? These things happen. And they might happen on my plane.
Now as I said, I’m not too worried. Chances are that I’ll be perfectly fine and won’t die inside 100 pounds of steel. But still, I think of my death. I look back to my life and ask, What if I died today? What will people remember me by? I mean, I’m only fourteen. The only highlight of my short life is that I once won a contest on a magazine. That’s it.
No one expects a boy to do anything special in the 14 years he’s been alive. But I wonder how people will remember me by when I die.
See. This is what happens when you start contemplating your death. You ask philosophical questions about your life.
So most likely, I’ll be fine. But if I’m not, this will be the last thing I’ll ever say. I feel like I should say something for important and special for people to remember me by. The only think I can think of is this.
Mom, before we left to go to the airport, I used your bathroom and I misfired. A lot. Sorry your bathroom smells like piss.